


Tied with a Ribbon

by lilithiumwords



Series: All That Stands Between Us [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apologies, Flower Crowns, Flower Language, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Hobbits, M/M, Thorin is a Bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:51:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Our good friend Thorin must apologize to someone very dear to him. They have quarreled and shouted, and he has given most terrible offense. We need a bouquet that tells Thorin's friend that he is very sorry, that he cares for his friend truly and never wishes to leave their side again."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tied with a Ribbon

**Author's Note:**

> This is a side story to my long epic, _Pain-Bearer_ , and is an extra scene to the main plot, taking place about a year and a half after Thorin and Bilbo first meet at the beginning of that story. Written in commemoration of writing 200,000 words of _Pain-Bearer_!
> 
> Betaed by the perfect and amazing tribumvirate!

The Vale glowed in the morning sunlight, flowers waving gently in the air, tall golden grasses shining as the breeze swept through the fields. It was a beautiful spring day -- for most.

A round green door of a Hobbit smial opened suddenly, and out stormed a tall Dwarf with dark hair, fleeing the yard as a voice shouted behind him, "And don't come back till you've picked every flower in the Vale, you insufferable clot-head!"

The door slammed shut, and Thorin Oakenshield turned around with wide eyes, a wounded look crossing his regal face. He hardly understood what he had done wrong, and now Bilbo was _mad_ at him. They had squabbled before, in letter and when they had first met in person, but never like this!

His broad shoulders slouched, and Thorin began walking down the dirt path, toward the park near the center of New Southfarthing. There was a large tree in the center of the park, and Thorin went to sit beneath it moodily, watching the wildflowers sway cheerfully and despising them for a moment. Hobbits and their obsession with flowers -- why would he bother with it?

 _Well, if it's flowers he wants,_ Thorin thought with a scowl, standing up and starting to grab at the flowers.

He had a spectacularly messy bouquet twenty minutes later, and he was trying to brush dirt off his pants when he heard a young voice say, "What are you doing to those poor flowers?"

Thorin turned around guiltily and nearly dropped the flowers. There were two girl Hobbits standing just a few strides from him, with three small children behind them. One girl had dark hair pinned up under a hat and a somewhat sour frown on her face, and the other had long blonde curls pulled forward in a braid and a look of great delight. They both stared at him with far too much interest for Thorin's comfort, and he quickly hid the bouquet behind his back.

"Nothing," he said, refusing to be embarrassed.

The three children giggled, and the two girls slowly smiled. "Then you won't mind if we sit here beside you, would you?" Without waiting for Thorin's agreement, the girls quickly and efficiently laid out a blanket on the grass and sat down, while the children took off running into the wildflowers.

Thorin eyed the girls warily, but they ignored him and began chattering about someone named Menegilda and her torrid relationship with one Rorimac Brandybuck. Thorin recognized the name as one of Bilbo's cousins, but thinking of Bilbo reminded him of the fight they had earlier, and then of the terrible bouquet in his hands. He hurriedly turned away to push the mess of flowers under the grass beside him.

"Are you apologizing to someone?" a high voice said, and Thorin looked up to see one of the Hobbit children standing right beside him, looking at him with the wide-eyed curiosity inherent in every child. Behind them, the gossip suddenly stopped, and Thorin felt the back of his neck grow hot under the attention.

Nothing else to do but give in, then. Thorin sighed and opened his hands, looking at the child evenly. "How can you tell?" he asked, and the young girl looked down at his flowers in dismay.

"This one," she said, leaning down to pick up a purple flower that Thorin realized he had in abundance. "It's hyacinth." As if that meant anything to a Dwarf.

"I do not carry such knowledge with me," he intoned, and perhaps his manner of speech delighted the child, because she laughed and handed him the flower. He left the mess on the ground and took it, admiring its curling petals stacked neatly atop each other.

"Hyacinth means you are very sorry for what you have done and begs forgiveness in the same breath," said another voice behind him, and Thorin turned again to see that the two girls had moved closer to him and were watching him in keen interest. The blonde girl reached out to take the flower, gesturing to her friend.

"If I offended my friend Lobelia, then I would give her one hyacinth tied with blue. If we quarreled, then it would be two, and if we had shouted at one another, then I would give three, with other flowers more," the blonde Hobbit said, and her friend Lobelia nodded in agreement.

"But if Primula was my lover, and I did the same thing, then the other flowers would be different," Lobelia said next, and her friend Primula nodded firmly.

Thorin looked down at the flower in Primula's hand, his eyes widening. "Different flowers? Why is the ribbon blue? There are meanings to the _numbers_?" he asked in dismay, causing the two girls to laugh.

"Oh, you sound as if you need help, sir! My name is Primula Brandybuck, and this is my good friend Lobelia Bracegirdle, at your service. If I am not mistaken, then you are Thorin Oakenshield, guest of my dear cousin Bilbo!" Primula said, looking rather gleeful, and Thorin wondered if he had walked into a trap. The children crept closer, peering up at him with open-mouthed awe.

"Why are you picking hyacinths, Mister Oakenshield?" the first child asked, and Thorin gave a deep sigh, giving in to the futility of hoping this never got back to Bilbo, Bofur, or any member of his own family.

"I have indeed offended someone dear to me, and we quarreled for some time, and we did shout at each other. He made me leave the house, and he told me to pick him all the flowers in the Vale," Thorin explained. He looked down at his pathetic pile of wildflowers that held no meaning to him and were chosen in a fit of pique at the Hobbit who was no doubt, at this moment, muttering under his breath about Thorin's person and nobility.

(Thorin was correct. "Stubborn, rude, hopeless clot of a Dwarf! Is he descended from kings or from fools? See if I speak to him ever again," Bilbo muttered to himself as he angrily fixed another cup of tea.)

Primula and Lobelia exchanged glances that were far too knowing, but Thorin lifted his head and gave a great sigh, making the children nearby giggle again. Thorin realized that more small children had appeared, thick dark curls bouncing as they leaned past their friends, and he nodded to the small group in greeting.

"Well, you simply can't give him just _one_ hyacinth then. Better be a dozen," Primula said, looking determined, but Lobelia shook her head.

"But what of geraniums and heather? It would make the apology more profound," Lobelia said with a small, conspiring smile, and she and Primula looked meaningfully at each other before turning to Thorin at the same time.

"We'll have to help you then. Dwarves cannot hope to understand the delicate exchanges in floral conversations, and you yourself have said you know nothing of it. Andy! Rosie! Go pick some gardenias!" The two little Hobbits ran off with bright laughter, and the smallest of the girls sat down beside Thorin with a look of shy determination.

"I'll put them together," she said, and the two older Hobbits crooned to her.

"That's very kind of you, May! Be sure to tie them with string for now. We can get ribbon later," Primula said, and Lobelia handed the girl a handful of string from one of her pockets. Very soon, there were small Hobbits popping up everywhere with handfuls of flowers that had been picked quite more neatly than Thorin's sorry mess, now forgotten on the ground. May bowed her head and worked very carefully to arrange the flowers.

Each time she finished, Primula and Lobelia would examine the flowers with great attention, humming and looking meaningfully at each other, before regretfully setting the assortment of flowers aside.

"It's not enough," Primula would say, and Lobelia would call to one of the children, "Go pick some narcissus!" or some other flower that Thorin had never heard of before.

Thorin chose to spend his time helping the girl May. She was very shy and did not speak to him much, but when he began to play with the discarded flowers in front of them in distraction, May decided to teach him how to braid flowers into a crown, something Thorin had certainly seen but never chosen to do for himself.

"Now twist it here, and pull the stem tight," May told him solemnly, and Thorin followed her instructions to the letter. When he was finished, May beamed at him, plucked the crown of daisies from his hands, and laid it upon Thorin's head.

"Now you look like a king!" May said, and both Primula and Lobelia laughed in delight. Thorin felt his cheeks warm, and he quickly thought it to be the sun, which was now shining through the trees on their small company.

"Thank you for teaching me this, Miss May," Thorin said in lieu of any protest, and May looked quite pleased with herself, blushing pink and sitting back down quickly.

"You're welcome," she whispered, but she had a smile on her face, and Thorin felt content here. He had not been around small children in a long time, not since he had last visited his cousin Glóin and his brood. Together, he and May wove many crowns of flowers, gifting them to the children who ran up with more flowers for his bouquets.

At last, Primula and Lobelia called an end to the flower picking, and the entire group sat in a circle and looked at the bouquets of flowers in consideration. Every bouquet was tied with blue ribbon that someone had fetched from a smial nearby, arranged neatly. Somehow, looking at the bouquets made Thorin very nervous.

There were at least ten Hobbit children now beside the two girls, and they all looked very serious as they listened to Primula's explanation of Thorin's mistake.

"Our good friend Thorin must apologize to someone very dear to him. They have quarreled and shouted, and he has given most terrible offense. We need a bouquet that tells Thorin's friend that he is very sorry, that he cares for his friend truly and never wishes to leave their side again. Which one should he give to his friend?" Primula asked.

Thorin felt that his face was burning now. What strong sunlight! He should sit inside for the rest of the day, hopefully after Bilbo forgave him, and cool off with some cider. Preferably with Bilbo, who had a lovely stash of cider in one of his cellars, perhaps spiced with some brandy. Bilbo would smile about it, and they would laugh about the argument, and everything would be fine.

The children looked at Thorin, then back to the bouquets. Then May raised her hand, and Primula nodded to her.

"All of them," May said simply, and all of the children cheered, while Primula and Lobelia exchanged very knowing looks and made noises of agreement.

"It's decided," they said together, and then the biggest of the bouquets was pushed into Thorin's hands, while the rest of the children gathered the others and made him stand. 

"It's time to apologize," Primula said, hooking her arm through Thorin's and forcing him walk up the road, while Lobelia took Thorin's other arm with a grin. Thorin looked between the two girls in shock.

"What, now?" he asked, and the two girls huffed and gave him such stern looks that he quickly shut his mouth, reminded of his sister.

"When else, Mister Oakenshield? You can't let it go on all day, or else he'll just be madder at the end of it," Primula said, while Lobelia nodded in agreement.

Together, they frog-marched Thorin all the way to the round green door which had slammed behind him earlier that day. The gaggle of Hobbit children followed in their wake, laughing and running about, but never losing any of the bundles of hyacinths, daisies, narcissus, heather, daffodils, gardenias, forsythia, and lilies -- not that Thorin knew any of these flowers other than hyacinths and daisies. He wondered how Primula and Lobelia had known that his fight was with Bilbo, then gave up; he might never understand the mysteries of Hobbits.

When the company of Hobbits and one Dwarf reached the round green door, Primula and Lobelia quickly abandoned Thorin to the doorstep, standing in a half-circle behind him with the girls and boys who had helped, all of them giggling or hiding smiles behind their hands. Thorin glanced back with a betrayed look, but finally he gave another deep sigh and straightened his shoulders, reaching up to the brass knocker.

Bilbo Baggins opened the door a moment later, a scowl ready on his face, but he stopped short when the heavy scents of flowers hit his senses, and he looked down from Thorin Oakenshield's face to a bouquet of flowers.

Beyond Thorin stood Bilbo's cousin Primula, her friend Lobelia, and many fauntlings, May Grubb included. Each Hobbit child held a bouquet of apology, and perhaps the most ridiculous part of the entire image was that each of his greeters, Thorin as well, had a chain of flowers on their head.

"I'm sorry," Thorin said simply, and his blue, blue eyes matched the ribbon that tied his flowers. The giggles and whispers behind Thorin hushed suddenly, as the children held their breaths in anticipation of Bilbo's answer.

Bilbo wavered, his cheeks turning pink as he looked at the bouquets and quickly picked out the meanings of the flowers Thorin was gifting to him, that he was certain Thorin did not understand. He glanced at Primula and Lobelia in reprimand, knowing that the two girls were behind this, but the girls only beamed at him.

Bilbo looked up at Thorin again, and the Dwarf looked very sorry indeed. His face was set in stone as if he went to battle, and his jaw was clenched, likely holding back the urge to flee. He also looked ridiculous, with flushed cheeks and a daisy chain on his dark hair, and Bilbo felt himself smile. He reached out to take the bouquet in Thorin's hands, their fingers brushing in a way that he was very glad the fauntlings could not see, but for the gossip it would cause. While Bilbo was leaning in, he breathed in the scents of hyacinths and cloves, feeling guiltily happy as he did so, and he heard Thorin's breath hitch.

"Apology accepted," Bilbo said when he stepped away from Thorin, flowers in hand, and he was glad for it, when Thorin smiled back at him.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Flower meanings** ([via](http://thelanguageofflowers.com/)):  
>  hyacinth (purple) -- apology, asking for forgiveness  
> geranium -- foolishness  
> heather (lavender) -- admiration  
> gardenia -- secret love  
> narcissus -- formality  
> daisy -- loyalty, innocence  
> daffodil -- hopeful regard  
> forsythia -- anticipation  
> lily (white) -- majesty


End file.
